They'd stopped close to where Ultyr had fell the goat. Her stomach was stretched visibly from eating the goat with Ultyr, though there had been leftovers. She wasn't that big and sometimes she felt like he forgot she was only a slave.

She brought another branch to the small fire she had started, snapping smaller pieces from it and placing them into the fire. Wind buffeted them here, cold from the southern lands to this one. Her thinner fur ruffled against the colder winds. How could the weather be so extremely different in these lands. Hot and humid, then cold and frigid. Auster her book called the lower half of the lands, Boreas the northern half of them. Opposite seasons it had said the lands experienced. A glance at the sky, darkened with stars shining brightly and a new moon hanging low.

She had felt a few tremors from the earth as they moved about the lands towards this one. How strange they had been. Her ears flicked forward as she moved back to her place among the rocky outcropping, the fire stoked once more. She laid next to a large stone, keeping the rock between her and the wind. Her jaws pulled the book from her satchel beside her, opening it to a page that was blank. Her teeth then grasping the brush and the charcoal, inserting the charcoal into the metal piece in the brush that was seemingly made for drawing with. She then set about drawing in the book. The cold of Auster and heat of Boreas having intrigued her, especially when paired with the recent tremors she had felt. She denoted all three on the side as she drew.

A constellation drawn to note the position and where it sat with the season. The star cluster being visible in the skies meant summer was about half over. So next season should be fall. But with fall what did that mean for these lands? In their homelands she knew it would usually bring a slight chill and a harvest of pumpkins with it, but here where she had seen no such fields planted nor slaves working the lands what did these lands know? How did they cope with the seasons here? What would be the outcome of these tremors?

"Things I Hear"

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Their bellies full, and the day done, the God-Prince Ultyr picked out a spot to settle in. He let her gather her sticks and wood and watched her build the small fire. She was certainly far more useful than his father had any idea about. Such a waste to just use and discard her.

He watched her take apart the twigs with a measured eye. Despite her half-blindness and torn voicebox, she had knowledge.

He watched her take her book and fit the charcoal into the stick. He got up, nonchalantly, and sighed as he plopped himself back down around her. Both to shield her from the chill and wind and also to blatantly look over her shoulder. His early years were spent with many tutors, who taught him as much as they could from archeology to zoology. He could see she was marking the stars and seasons. She had an idea about something and she was working it out.

"You've noticed the seasons..." He mused, leaning back and giving her more room to think and draw. He cast his thoughts to the seasons as well. They hadn't been here long but their stint on the Bifrost had him musing also. The heat was impenetrable here, and the chill from the south was nigh on deadly. What with so much prey moving northward.

He pondered if seasons were always so extreme here.

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His movements brought her good eye to him for the briefest of moments before turning back to her drawing and writings. She was thinking about this as hard as she could. Having no voice meant one was trapped in their own head, and thinking was the only way that she had found she did not lose herself completely.

Even as he curled around her and read over her shoulder she did not stop. Her brain was set on the season and how it was affecting everything. From the animals moving across the land bridge to the sweltering heat of the north, something was different. Something that just was not adding up. "You've noticed the seasons..." she turned her eye to him and gave him a curt nod, confirming his observations.

To have such extreme summers and winters paired with the tremors, was astronomically unlikely. These lands would have more deserts than she had seen, less water. She marked down the quakes by drawing a piece of earth splitting then.

She knew about the plates of the world and the shifting they did that caused tremors. They would have to be on a fault line. A look to the east and she then drew a mountain with smoke rolling from it in the far distance. A volcano. Was it active? Would it erupt?

She glanced up at Ultyr and turned the page to grab his attention before quickly jotting down a thought. One word large across the top of the page. Volcano. Her writing wasn't the prettiest but she had already figured he had learned to read her writing from the way he had seemed to read over her shoulder a moment ago.

Her eye looked up to him set with a small worry. If it were to erupt then the lands would be clouded with ash, scents wouldn't be able to be picked up after that either. The smog would slowly choke life out of the place.

"Things I Hear"

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She was working something up for sure. What could she be musing about the seasons for? They were vagabonds at the moment, it wasn't like she would be planning for the planting seasons next year. Was she pondering about what the seasons ahead could be? He hadn't thought about that. It wasn't typically something the nobility had in mind, that was a farmer's job.
She had handled that goat earlier... Was she a farmer? Her utility was already becoming more and more obvious to him, but he was surprised that if she were a farmer or herder she could read or write.

He had drifted in his own thoughts for a moment until she drew his attention back to her pages. Looking over her shoulder he furrowed his brows at the drawing of a volcano. He lifted one brow at her trying to follow her line of thinking.

"You think the extreme weather now is attributed to a volcano? I haven't seen any evidence of a volcano recently. Extreme weather comes from after those eruptions doesn't it?" He offered curiously.

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Ultyr seemed distracted until she got ahold of his attention. He had no idea the amount of education that she had had before Archnemes. If he had known he likely would be more upset that she had had her life ruined the way it had. She had had prospects of higher things than her parents had before she had seen them slain before her eyes. Those memories would forever haunt her.

His father had stolen her voice and name all in one night. As well as any prospects for higher education. She had once had a pretty voice, but now she hated the thought of listening to songs or lullabies. A shake of her head was given to clear those thoughts as Ultyr turned his attention to her. She leaned so he could see the book clearer. Her eye cast to his face to gauge his reaction.

"You think the extreme weather now is attributed to a volcano? I haven't seen any evidence of a volcano recently. Extreme weather comes from after those eruptions doesn't it?" Her ears pressed as he spoke. She hadn't thought of that. But the heat of the season might be normal here in these lands. She turned her face back to her book and furrowed her brows. Had he not noticed the earth quakes? She went back to her book and picked up her charcoal, going back to trying to outline something for him. The plates underneath could be shifting which caused the earthquakes which would in turn possibly cause an eruption.

She started writing out her thoughts more carefully this time, illustrating the plate beneath the surface. She was aware they thought the Judila life was wrought with savagery, but she knew the truth of their schools. She had had her education paid for with everything her family could give. Her and her sister would of had the world. A frustration. She couldn't communicate this shit and she pressed her ears and eyes closed in the frustration. How the fuck were they supposed to communicate if her drawings weren't clear enough? How much had he been taught of this sort of science anyway? Was it all just a bunch of mumbo jumbo that would go over his head? She had pegged him for a genius. She lifted a paw and ran it down her face as she struggled out how to write it out for him. In the end she put the pencil down and sighed a breath out, closing the book and lowering her head to her paws, but leaning into him. She'd figure this out one day. Right now though the frustration of trying to communicate her thoughts had her almost in tears. Maybe she was just that exhausted.

"Things I Hear"

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